Voice of an Angel
by Dziude
Summary: Who can it be singing? Had to be a student, none of the staff could sing like that in a million years... But which one? *Abandoned unless inspiration strikes... and it's been several years :3
1. Mystery

A-N: Well, is late at night, and this idea just appeared in my head. It will be longer than this, but I have not decided how long yet. Thank you a lot to Noora for betaing this for me! Thank the Goddess for insomniacs :) Please note all lyrics are not mine, they are from the opera "Carmen" by Biszet, and I take no credit for them or any characters etc. used in my story. I own nothing.Well, on with the show... Please R/R and tell me what you think.

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Snape paused, hearing a sound coming from the dark corridor around the corner ahead. Someone was creeping along with what they obviously assumed was a masterful degree of stealth. He rolled his eyes in the darkness, and extended his foot slightly around the corner. The student tripped, and went sprawling on the floor at Snape's feet.

He raised his wand.

"Lumos" he hissed, and the corridor was flooded with sharp, white light. A 3rd year

Hufflepuff boy with a shock of curly red hair lay staring up at him in panic.

"O'Neill! What are you doing wandering the corridors boy!"

He glared down at him, then held up his hand as the boy opened his mouth to stammer out a reply.

"On second thoughts, nevermind. I do not want to hear your bumbling excuses. I am in no mood to stand and watch you trying to come up with a pack of half-baked lies. Forty points from Hufflepuff, and detention with Mr Filch on Saturday nights until Christmas."

The student climbed to his feet and shuffled from one foot to the other nervously.

"Well then, what are you waiting for boy! Back to your dorm! NOW!" He barked, and the student scampered off.

"Bloody Hufflepuffs..." he muttered. "Nox!"

And he swept off down the hallway, black robes blending perfectly with the darkness.

He encountered no other living creatures on his rounds, except for the scraggly tail of Mrs Norris as she wandered into an empty classroom, and this came as a bit of a disappointment- he was restless and irritable, and what better way to let out hisfrustrations than tointimidate students?

He was starting to think of returning to his quarters when he thought he heard something. He froze and strained his ears, but it was too far away to make out. It did seem to be coming down the staircase from the next floor however, and he was almost at the staircase...

_It's not like I have anything better to do except lie and stare at the ceiling_ He thought bitterly, and let his curiosity get the better of him and proceeded up to the fifth floor.

The sound became gradually louder as he reached the top of the stairs and proceeded left down the corridor.

It was someone singing, he realised, and as he got closer he discovered it was a lone female voice- beautiful, clear, strong and operatic. It was coming from behind the second door along the hall, and he could see a faint light shining from underneath it. He stretched his hand out towards the door handle, but hesitated and put his ear near the door instead.

_"L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_

_Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,_

_Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle,_

_S'il lui convient de refuser..."_

The aria was quite familiar, but the name escaped him. The singing was beautiful though, and he stood for a long time just listening. Finally, he could stand it no longer and silently tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. Casting a charm would alert whoever was singing to his presence, and he wanted to get a look at the singer before she saw him.

Then the voice inside the room fell silent, and after five minutes he gave up and went back to his rooms. But the would not leave him and he stayed awake for quite a while trying to puzzle out who it could belong to. Not one of the staff; Minerva had been half decent in her day but never to that standard, and certainly not anymore.The others couldn't sing a note. No, Not a teacher. A student then? More than likely, but it would have to be one of the older students. No first year's voice could be as strong and true as that. Not a Slytherin though, or he would know about it by now. Well, there was no harm in returning tomorrow night at the same time to see if she would give herself away.

He should have recognised the aria at once, of course; _Habanera_ from _Carmen_. He had heard it sung many times, but never like that... Gradually his mind wandered from these thoughts, but the voice still haunted his mind as he fell asleep.

And when he dreamed, the mysterious soprano danced through his dreams, always one step away from him, around the next corner, as elusive as smoke.

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A/N: I know it is quite short, but I have more written. I'm just too tired to go through it and correct all the mistakes right now. Will probably post sometime in the next day or two but in the meantime please R&R to tell me what you think, if this is a good enough idea to continue with. 


	2. Enchantment

DISCLAIMER: The lyrics of "_Son vergin _vezzosa" from _I Puritani_ by Vincenzo Bellini, all characters etc. belong to JK Rowling et al, and once again Habanera from Carmen is by Biszet. I own nothing, except any non-cannon characters that may appear., and take no credit or make any money.

A-N: Hei everyone, here is the next chapter! Woah, it's actually a lot longer than I anticipated…Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews. I was starting to doubt if it is worth bothering to write at all anymore. But you guys cheered me up, so here you go!

Well, thanks to Noora for continuing to beta this for me even after bombarding her in FinnChat at three in the morning with the first chapter, completely out of the blue :P. And for whoever wondered, O'Neill is a cameo of Big Feargus (Happy Now, Inkivääri!) hehe….

**Swoobleswir**l- Ah! Don't jumps to conclusions! Hehe

**Nixin **& **AngelicS2Fantasy**- Possess your souls in patience, all will revealed soon!

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Snape went through his classes the next day in a half-daze, but no one seemed to notice. His mind kept going back to that voice, no matter how hard he tried to keep focused on matters in hand and remain his customary Dungeon Bat persona, he was constantly distracted and almost was civil to some third year Hufflepuff girl before he caught himself on and sneered instead of responding in kind to their "Morning Professor". 

He spent that night lurking through the corridors once more, having offered to do Professor Sinistra's rounds for her, much to her astonishment. Sweeping through the darkness and frightening the life out of several miscreants before climbing up to the 5th floor and making his way to the room where he had heard the singing the previous night. Sure enough, there was a flickering light shining through the crack underneath the door and pressing his ear to the wood he could hear her singing scales to warm up her voice. Gingerly, he laid his hand to the door handle once more, and again it was locked.

_Dammit! _He let out a quiet hiss of frustration. He was completely intrigued by her music, and desperate to find out who she was. But if he _Alohomora'_d the door, that would alert her to his presence, and she would probably never come up here to sing again. So once again he had to content himself with standing in the shadows outside the door with his ear to the wood. Soon, she stopped the scales and began to sing. Again, she sung _Habanera _from _Carmen, Greensleeves, _and many other things that he knew. As before, she sang flawlessly with no mistakes at all. She stopped all too soon, and he heard the rustling of parchment and the soft sounds of her moving around the room. Then the sound of a piano playing quietly, the same phrase over and over and after a while she began to sing tentatively, often going back to the start of the phrase to correct her mistakes as she learned the new piece.

Boreing

_Ah sì. _

_Son vergin vezzosa in vesta di sposa; _

_son bianca ed umile qual giglio d'april, _

_ho chiome odorose cui cinser tue rose, _

_ho il seno gentile del tuo monil._

_Qual mattutina stella _

_bella voglio brillar;_

_del crin le moli anella_

_mi giova ad aggraziar_

He blinked. She learned quickly. Stretching, he looked at his pocket watch. It was half past one in the morning. He had not noticed how much time had passed, so absorbed he had been in her beautiful singing. Surely she would come out soon, if he just hid he might be able to see her. But there was nowhere to hide on this landing, bare and seldom used as it was, except for the shadows in the doorways, and as soon as she opened the door the candlelight from within the room would spill out and reveal him instantly. Resigned, he turned away and slipped away into the shadows back to the dungeons with her song still echoing in his head.

Next morning, in the Great Hall, he scrutinized the female students carefully, looking for anyone who looked as though they had been up most of the night. Unfortunately there had been an all night party in the Slytherin Common Room to celebrate beating Ravenclaw the day before, so most of the Slytherin students at least fell into this category. He scanned the other tables, and that Granger, and the two girls sitting near her looked tired. Granger? He snorted to himself. She was probably doing research or studying for something, even though the NEWTs were at least nine months away. Maybe one of the other two, but not Granger. She was too much of a Good Student to be sneaking out to sing opera all night. That left that Indian girl –_Pitalle? Patil? Something like_ that- and the Weasel's little sister who were sitting beside her and looking half asleep, along with half of the rest of the population of the castle. He sighed.

_Bloody waste of time…_ he thought. _She could be none of those zombies after all- all it would take was a simple potion and she would appear perfectly well rested._ His eyes lingered once more on the Gryffindors, then he rose and swept out of the hall.

Meanwhile, down at the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger was staring into her breakfast only semi-aware of what was going on around her.

_I have to be more aware of the time_ she thought groggily. _If I get carried away I won't be able to stay awake in classes, and NEWT's are coming up this year_.

She glanced over at Harry and Ron, and rolled her eyes Ron was frantically scribbling the end of his Charms homework and trying to eat a piece of toast with the other hand, and Harry was deep in conversation with Seamus about Quidditch. Well, at least they weren't likely to notice anything. The bell rang then, and she rose from the table. Leaning over to pick up her schoolbag, she could feel someone looking at her. She looked up and was met with the intense, searching gaze of Professor Snape. He snorted quietly and with another sweeping glance around the hall he left in the direction of the dungeons. She shuddered, and followed Ron and Harry on the way to Charms.

He returned to listen again that night, and the night after, and the night after that, until it became a part of his routine. Listening to her made him forget his troubles and just relax, even if it was only for an hour or two. He still wanted to discover who she was, but he realised that if she knew he was listening to her she might be embarrassed and uncomfortable.

_Hell, which young woman in the school wouldn't be if they realised that I of all people was spying on them?_ He thought wryly. _Although, it isn't really spying is it? I cannot see her. More like eavesdropping. Still, she would probably be upset, or think I am stalking her or something equally foolish._

By the end of the week, he knew all the songs she usually sang. She had almost mastered "_Son vergin _vezzosa", the aria he hadn't known, but seemed to be taking a long time over it, perfecting every note. He was impressed by her diligence.

A month later, he still was no closer to finding out who owned the beautiful voice. He was hesitant to just barge in, or do anything that would reveal that he had been listening in on her she would stop her late night singing, so he contented himself with listening and hoping.

One night in early January however, he got his wish.

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AN: Thanks for reading this, I hope it lives up to what you expected after reading the first bit. Constructive Criticism welcome… Next chapter will appear tomorrow or the day after if all goes well. 


	3. Revelations

A-N: Greetings darlings! I know I promised you all a faster update than this, but there has been a lot going on for me lately with school and exams, as well as some life problems. However, I ended up stuck with my boring parents and annoying brother in the middle of nowhere for the weekend so writing the next chapters gave me something to focus on instead of slowly death of boredom. Thanks much to Noora and FlyingFinn for beta on this. And thanks for all the nice people who have reviewed the previous chapters! Now, on with the show!

DISCLAIMER: All characters etc. belong to JK Rowling et al. I own nothing, except any non-canon characters that may appear, and take no credit or make any money.

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The weather had taken a sudden turn for the worse over the last week, and as Severus Snape climbed up the steps from his dungeons and into the entrance hall, snow was beginning to fall heavily. Many of the students he swept past were wearing outdoor cloaks over their robes, and fires blazed throughout the castle even in rooms that were seldom used. He would not admit it, but it was a relief to leave the damp chill of the dungeons. Even with a fire lit, his rooms seemed empty and cold. He hoped the practice of lighting fires in random rooms had been extended even to the disused rooms on the upper floors. It was no joke to stand in the icy cold corridor for hours on end when there was light and heat and music so close by, and yet be unable to get to it. 

He had finished all of his marking early this evening and decided to go and look for any clues to who the mysterious soprano's identity before she arrived, if she came tonight at all. He had long since learned that she did not appear every night, and this had made him almost certain that she must be a student. However, he made it his habit to go every night on the off chance that she would be there. He was drawn to her, even though he knew nothing about her, simply because the sound of her voice could make him forget his ghosts better than any Firewhiskey ever could.

_Not that I would ever admit that to her…_ he thought _Especially if she is a student. She'd probably run screaming that the Great Bat is stalking her and that I am a dirty old man or something._

He gave a short bark of laughter, and two Hufflepuff first years who were hurrying back to their common room jumped and squeaked in fright, not having noticed him gliding through the shadows. He speared them with one of his famous Death Glares and they scurried off.

He met fewer and fewer students as curfew approached, and he found that he was glad. He wanted to get to the room as quickly as possible to have a look around before she arrive, and every time he met someone he felt obliged to interrogate them.

_Wouldn't want them to think that the Evil Dungeon Bat of Doom mellowing out now that the great Lord Moldy Voldy has bitten the dust! _he thought sourly as he climbed the last flight of stairs.

Reaching the top, he paused in the shadows. It would not do if she came up and saw him. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the top of his head.

"_Usynlig_" he whispered. His whole body shimmered and disappeared from view. Perfect.

"_Lumos_!" he muttered to himself, and he entered the room.

The room seemed once to have been a common room of some description, for empty bookshelves lined the walls. An empty marble fireplace occupied the wall to the right of the door and was flanked by two mismatched armchairs and a worn leather sofa. The rest of the room was comparatively empty, except for several old tables and desks and a small piano in the far corner. Another door opened off the back wall near the instrument.

He spent the next quarter of an hour searching the room for any clue to the girl's identity but with no success. Eventually, he extinguished his wand and sank into one of the armchairs to think.

Ever since the first time that he heard her singing, she had not been far from his mind. When he was angrily scoring out the endless mistakes made by his dunderheaded students or about to strangle with some fool in his classroom, he would hear that voice echoing in his mind and a good portion of his anger would drain away. It haunted his dreams too- often he dreamed of chasing the singer through Hogwarts but she was always one step ahead and he could never see more than a flick of her robes around the corner and hear the echo of her singing as she danced away. It was better than the nightmares that usually plagued him though, no doubt about that.

_If she is a student, this could be bad…_ he mused. _It is not appropriate any part of any student to be in my mind in my _dreams_, even if it is only her voice. Hopefully, it will be someone completely repulsive and the shock will cure me of this interest._

Suddenly, a soft noise from the corridor jolted him out of his musings and he stiffened. Was it her? or had Filch finally decided to include the 7th floor in his ramblings? He held his breath as the door creaked slowly open. A tall, pale girl slipped into the dark roomand quickly shut and locked the door behind her. Dropping her bag onto one of the desks,he heard her whisper asilencing charm on the room.

Waving her wand in a wide arc she lit the fire and the candles in the wall sconces.

Snape had to suppress a gasp of astonishment when she turned towards him to toss her cloak over the back of the sofa. It was Granger! Her long, thick hair was pulled back from her face with a silver clasp to hang in sleek and shiny curls down her back, instead of the fizzy halo that usually framed her face, and a pair of silver hoops hung in her ears. It was amazing what a difference such small things could make.

His mouth fell open when he realised she was undoing the clasp of her robes.

_I should _not_ be here. Maybe she is here to meet someone_ he panicked, the blood rushing to his cheeks.

But she only removed her robes and flung them on top of her cloak before turning to pick up her bag. He noticed she was wearing a pair of rather… figure hugging muggle jeans and a blue t-shirt with "The Red Hot Chili Peppers" written on the front, and he blinked in surprise. Of course, 7th Year students didn't have to wear school uniform under their robes, but he had expected Miss Granger to do so anyway. Apparently he had misjudged her in more ways than one.

He blinked, slowly getting over his initial shock, and realised she was moving over to the piano. The change that came over her when she began to sing was astounding.

When she entered the room, she had looked harassed and preoccupied. But as she warmed up and then bewitched the piano and it began to play an accompaniment her face relaxed and she began to smile.

_Voice of an angel my ass, she is an angel…_he thought dazedly as he watched her.

He sank back in the chair and let her song wash over him, watching her through half closed eyes.

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A-N: This is quite a long chapter, compared to the others. But I felt that I should try to get the story going, since it took me so long to update. The idea of the 7th years wearing what ever they like under their robes came from another fic but I forgot what it is called. Please review; I want to know if this is good, bad or otherwise!  I wrote the next chapter at the same time as this so it will be up ASAP, as soon as Noora sends it back. 


	4. Continuation

A-N: Sorry it has been so long, real life keeps intruding. Please review it, I love to hear your comments. Thanks to all the nice people who reviewed the other chapters, and my other works. Def-tor heh smusma.

DISCLAIMER: All characters etc. belong to JK Rowling et al. I own nothing, except any non-canon characters that may appear, and take no credit or make any money. Seriously, I can't even afford to buy food- I'm just a poor student doing this for the craic.

The window of the room burst open, banging against the wall and Severus awoke with a start. The room was dark and cold, and he was alone. Leaping out of the chair, he looked down at himself and was relieved to see that he was still invisible. He let out a sigh of relief and moved swiftly to the window, gazing out into the windswept darkness of the grounds for a few moments before shutting and locking it once more. _That was close! _he thought._ What if she'd decided to sit in that chair? Or set something on it? _He could easily invent an excuse for being there and deduct points from her; he was a teacher, after all. But it would not be so easy to explain why he was invisible… and she'd never come back…The feeling that filled him at this prospect startled him. He strode quickly from the room, shaking his head to push the thoughts away.

He watched her carefully as she sat in his class and in the Great Hall, but forced himself to stay away from the fifth floor until he was certain she suspected nothing.

As the weeks passed, he found himself lost in his thoughts more and more often, until one evening he shook himself from his reverie and realised with a start that he was standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the fifth floor.

_Oh, sod it__…_ he sighed, and cast the invisibility charm on himself and began to climb.

Pointing his wand at the door, he checked for wards. Finding none, he opened it cautiously and slipped into the darkened room. It was empty.

He leaned against the wall and waited, but the minutes ticked past and she did not appear. Suddenly restless, he stepped away from the wall and headed for the piano. It was ancient and battered, the ivory coating of some of the keys so badly worn by generations of fingers that the wood below was becoming visible. He sat down and let his fingers drift along them.

_I wonder where it came from_ he mused. These classrooms had been disused even when he was a student, and judging by the appearance of the instrument…. _It's a lot older than you, and still easier on the eye. _He snorted._ Maybe Albus would know__…__ and maybe if you mention a piano to Albus he will revive that half-baked notion of making you offer tuition. _He winced inwardly.

Suddenly the sound of quick, quiet footfalls penetrated his thoughts and he stiffened as the door swung open. She strode into the room and cast a heavy pile of books on the table with a resounding thump. With a careless wave of her hand the roof filled with candlelight and a roaring fire burst into life in the grate.

_Her command of wandless and non-verbal enchantments is __impressive__…_he noted absently, his eyes watching the shine of the firelight on her hair. Then he shook himself mentally. He could not remain sitting here, but she was too close to risk moving. _And thoughts like that are _definitely_ not appropriate._

She was moving towards him. Severus willed his body to be completely still, holding his breath as she reached past him to place a sheaf of music on the piano's music rest. She was so close he could smell the faint fragrance of her shampoo. Then she stepped back, and his racing brain suddenly came up with an idea.

He watched her carefully as she raised her hand to enchant the piano. _Here goes nothing__…_ He poised his hands over the keyboard and as she flicked her wrist, he began to play.

It was unlike anything he had heard her practice before- a haunting Irish lament. He concentrated on the handwritten score in front of him, hoping desperately that time had not diminished his sight-reading skills.

Then she began to sing, and he lost himself in the music. Time itself seemed suspended as his fingers danced along the worn keys. She slowly moved around the room as she sang, and the expression she put into her song made goose bumps rise all over his body. The words washed over him, lilting, exotic and impossibly sad.

At last the piece ended, and she raised her hand to end the enchantment. Quickly, he jerked his hands from the keys. He made a mental note of the piece's title as she moved towards him to lift the score, then his head jerked up at a soft sound from the passageway.

She jumped too, eyes wide. She snatched up all her belongings and shrank them, stuffing them into her pocket. Another wave of her hand plunged the room into darkness, and she crept towards the door. He saw a dim sliver of light as she eased it open a crack and stood listening for what seemed like an age, before slipping out and shutting it softly behind her.

Severus suddenly realised he had been holding his breath, and exhaled. He stood up, disillusioning himself and lighting his wand. _Damn you to hell, Filch__…_ he cursed. As he moved towards the door, his eyes fell on the pale gleam of the music still sitting on the piano. He stared at it for a moment, hearing her voice soaring over each note as his eyes travelled over it.

_This is not good__…__Why did I allow myself to get into this situation? _

He scowled and began to make his way back to his quarters, stopping only to extract fifty points from Gryffindor and terrify two lurking fourth years.


	5. Harmony

_A-N: Again, I own nothing. I cannot even take credit for much imagination. All Harry Potter related things belong to the much exalted deity that is JK Rowling., yahdah yahdah blah. I do not know much about the real __Conservatoire National Sup__é__rieur de Musique et de Danse de Paris, but in the context of this story it is a very elite school of music. __Once again I would appreciate as much feedback as you are able to provide. Enjoy._

Severus sat in his quarters with a glass of Ogdens, staring at the scores which were spread out in front of him on the table. Her voice echoed again in his mind as his eyes travelled over the staves. _I must owl it back to her anonymously;_ _that is the safest way,_ Of course, he could have gone and done it straight away- but he had hesitated, toying with another idea.

Coming to a decision, he picked up his glass and moved to his desk. He muttered a charm on the quill to disguise his handwriting. _How was it that Albus once described it? Ah yes__…__. Distinctive. _A flicker of amusement crossed his face. Writing anonymous notes in his handwriting would be somewhat redundant. Especially to anyone who had attended Hogwarts in the last twenty years. He began to write.

_**Dear Miss Granger**_

_**I believe this score belongs to you, and thought that you would appreciate its return.**_

_**You may also be interested in the enclosed.**_

He paused, quill hovering over the parchment, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he left it unsigned. He tapped his wand onto a blank sheet, and ink spiralled out from it's tip, filling it with words and lines. Gathering the sheets together, he swallowed the rest of his drink and abruptly strode out.

After a night of tossing and turning, he was in a fowler mood than even was customary for him at breakfast the next day. She caught his eye and quickly ducked her head. That was perfectly normal, but the bright red glow that suffused her cheeks was not. _Idiot! _He berated himself. But _why is she blushing I wonder?_

He sipped his tea. _Guilty conscience? Stupid question. Christ knows what Potter and Weasel have been up to,_

He tolerated a conversation with Professor Sprout for the remainder of the meal. _How the hell can she be so damn cheerful at this time of day?_ Until the arrival of the owls. He watched her more covertly this time as she took the parcel from the owl. He face turned white as her eyes flickered over the words he had written. The blush spread once more across her face as she slipped it into her bag and returned almost too casually to her breakfast.

Her eyes scanned the hall as she ate, then snapped to her left as Weasley addressed her. Apparently neither he nor Potter had noticed that she even had a parcel. _Blockheads. _Scowling darkly, he replaced his cup on the table and joined the general melee exiting the Great Hall. _Double potions with the Hufflepuffs first thing- what fun__…_

From the moment she received the note, Hermione's mind had been racing. She barely reacted to Ron's enthusiastic announcement that another Hogsmeade weekend was approaching. He appeared somewhat miffed as he turned back to Harry and Seamus' conversation, but she barely noticed.

_Someone saw me! So much for being cunning and stealthy. It can't have been a teacher though- I'd be in detention for sneaking out by now. Bugger, this is inconvenient. _

Muttering a vague "See you later" to Ron and Harry, she left the hall and began to climb the staircase. Her hands itched to re-examine the parcel, and instead of making her way directly to charms, she slipped into the girls toilets. Perched on the toilet lid, she pulled the parcel back out. Her score was there, and the letter, and another sheet she had not initially noticed. It was printed on smooth glossy paper – a muggle information leaflet for the _Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique_ the famous school of music in Paris. She knew of it of course- it was world famous. Notoriously hard to get into- they only took the very best. _Evidently _someone_ thinks I've got a good voice._ She rolled her eyes, then jumped as the bell rang. Cursing, she hurried to class.

Severus noticed nothing more unusual in her behaviour than he had already, and although she studiously avoided practicing in the room for almost two weeks. He missed hearing her sing, and her voice continued to invade his dreams. She eventually returned, however, as he somehow knew she would. _Or hoped. Face it, you're in dangerous waters, Severus Snape__…_

Taking a chance, he stationed himself once more behind the piano and once again countered the spell. She seemed a little on edge tonight, and although the quality of her song was still exemplary, she made mistakes. This seemed to frustrate her further, and she threw herself into practicing again and again her weakest sections. Severus let his hands fly over the keys, anticipating her commands. He hadn't been sure that he would be able to read her well enough to pull this off, but it was easier than he had thought.

All too soon, it seemed to him, she raised her hand at the instrument and moved to pick up her things. The keys fell silent under his fingers and he sat motionless as she slipped out.

They fell into an easy routine as the months slipped by. Severus went to the room almost every evening and although there were days she did not appear, he found that the satisfaction of playing with her made up the wasted time. If she noticed any difference in the quality or style of his playing in comparison to her spell, she gave no indication. Part of his mind still insistently pointed out to him that his behaviour was not exactly proper, but every time she entered that room, the voice grew fainter. Outwardly, he appeared as taciturn and forbidding as ever and at all times kept his thoughts under close control. But every time he saw her it became more and more difficult. By the time the Easter Holidays arrived, he knew he was in trouble. Even making the younger students faint in fear had lost its distracting appeal…. Oh, he was in trouble.


	6. Influence I

Usually Severus Snape welcomed the peace and quiet of the holidays, but for once the muffled silence of the house at Spinner's End seemed oppressive. The ticking of the ancient grandfather clock echoed through the house in a way he'd never noticed before. He wandered from room to room, unable to put a finger on the cause of his restlessness. Only a few days had past, and already he was bored out of his mind. Stopping in front of the last door in the upstairs hallway, he sighed and tapped the grimy doorknob with his wand.

A short flight of steps led up into a musty attic room. Torn pages and decimated books were strewn across the floor under a thick layer of dust. Crumbling candles perched precariously on boxes piled around the walls and the only light filtered in through a dirty skylight set high in the roof.

It was blatantly obvious that this room had been unused for a long time.

He paused for a second at the top of the steps, taking in his surroundings. A memory fought to surface, but he pushed it down. Ignoring the boxes and assorted junk, he moved straight to the centre of the room where a large, crooked object stood half covered by a grubby sheet. He waved his hand at the skylight, and the room was filled with evening sunlight. Then he turned back to the object, and pulled off the covering.

The piano beneath had evidently once been a fine instrument, but now it was in a sad state indeed. It was bowed down and splintered across the middle so it rested on the floor and the keyboard tilted upwards unnaturally. The chipped and cracked keys grimaced up at him like a mouthful of broken teeth.

_I never thought I'd be looking at this again__…_He thought, _But, here I am. And damn, but it's worse than I remember._

His eyes clouded, as he saw Lucius raging through the house in a fit of fury, blowing apart anything that stood in his way. _Bastard_.

_//Traitor! Liar! The Dark Lord has fallen, on your information! You will pay for this! Coward!//_

_A bang and a dissonant screech, and the instrument which lay between them cracked, drowning out his words._

_Severus hand jerked up, faster than Lucius' eye could follow, He was blasted backwards against the wall. Grunting in pain, he tried to free himself, but was held fast. Blood poured freely from the side of his head. Snape regarded him with cold fury._

_//You have no idea what you are talking about. There is no time for this nonsense, Lucius. Get out, before the Aurorsget us both! Go!//_

_Released from the spell, Lucius scrambled to his feet. His right arm dangled crookedly by his side. His eyes blazed in pain and hatred, then widened as a faint noise echoed up from downstairs._

_In one smooth motion, Severus jumped on the piano stool and pulled open the skylight._

_//GO!!// He hissed, Lucius shot him a piercing look as he sheathed his wand and struggled out the window. _

_//Call me a coward again, and you will wish I had killed you immediately// _

_He slammed the window in Lucius' face, and turned to face the Aurors who were pounding up the stairs._

Shaking his head, he pulled out his wand and shrugged off his outer robes. Complete silence fell in the house as he knelt beside the instrument. He worked for hours, stopping only to light the candles as evening fell, and suppress a sneeze at the pungent smell of burning dust. As the clock downstairs chimed out a quarter of ten, he stepped back and replaced his wand, running a critical eye over his work. _Not bad__…__ but now for the real test. _

He righted the dusty stool and sat before the piano. Closing his eyes, he began to play the first thing which came to him.

As he played, he could hear her voice echoing through his mind, and he smiled.

Night fell unheeded around him as he played, the end of one piece flowing seamlessly into another. Suddenly, he became aware that he was singing, his voice forming a harmony with the memory in his head, and smirking shook his head at himself. _Fool. It's been far too long- you sound like shit. If she heard you singing with her, she'd most likely die laughing. _

He moved on to the next piece, the Irish Lament that he had first played for her. But try as he might, he could not pitch it quite right. Whatever he played sounded just slightly out of kilter with the voice which rang in his ears. He sighed in frustration.

A soft sound behind him jolted him from his thoughts, and before the notes had even died fully he was facing the door with his wand raised. The tall figure of Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the shadowy stairwell, the light of the guttering candles shining on his sliver hair and beard. His eyes twinkled maddeningly behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Headmaster! I was not expecting you." He turned back to the piano, pushing the stool in and closing the lid in an effort to order his thoughts.

"Do not worry, Severus, I just thought I would drop off some books I thought would interest you, on my way down to London. They're on the table, downstairs." His eyes twinkled mischievously in a way that made Severus increasingly suspicious.

"How long- How did-"

"I assure you, your wards are perfectly adequate. Do not concern yourself- Voldemort himself could not enter without your noticing." Dumbledore smiled serenely as he pretended not to notice Severus' flinch at the mention of the name.

"I see that you are busy, and as it happens I am in something of a hurry myself, so I will take my leave. No doubt I will see you again soon enough. Molly requires your presence at Grimmauld Place for dinner tomorrow night, if you are not otherwise engaged."

Dumbledore moved back down the steps, leaving Severus standing by the piano in consternation. _Infuriating old git - how the hell did he get in here?_

When he made his way downstairs, Dumbledore was gone, and there was a small parcel sitting neatly in the middle of the sitting room table.

He took it to the sofa, and opened it to find the latest copy of _Ars Alchemia: The Potion Brewer's Journal_ sitting on top of a small bundle of parchment. His eyes widened as he picked it up. It was a musical score, The cover was intricately decorated with a colourful Celtic border. Squinting in the dim light, he made out the words_ Si__ú__l a R__ú__n_ curling along the top

It was the Irish Lament.

* * *

_  
AN: Excuse, once again, my tardiness.  
_

_I have noticed that I have strayed into mainly writing from Severus' POV- oops. I meant to make it more balanced, so I could try to develop both characters. If I continue- I will try to balance it out. Thank you to those who have reviewed my work so far- it has been much appreciated. Please review if you liked, or if you didn't- constructive critiscism please!! ._


	7. Omniscience

Dumbledore strode up the steps of number 12, Grimmauld Place later that evening, still twinkling cheerfully and humming to himself.

After a few seconds, Hermione Granger opened the door a crack and peered around cautiously before stepping back to let him in.

"Professor Dumbledore! Mrs Weasley wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. There's no one here at the moment apart from Remus and I"

Her unruly hair was braided loosely back from her face. She wore muggle vest top and jeans. The ink on her fingers and the smudge across the bridge of her nose told him she had been studying. His eyes twinkled.

"I found that I finished up my business at Hogwarts sooner than I had hoped, and I thought I might as well come early. Minerva has been scolding me about my workload, you know." He grinned.

Hermione laughed as she reset the wards and re-locked the door, and Albus looked at her over the top of his glasses.

"Speaking of which, Miss Granger….you look tired." He tailed off and chuckled. "It is almost one o'clock in the morning."

"Yes, Headmaster." She said in a mock-demure voice, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Miss Granger." He watched her until she was about half way up the stairs, then walked slowly towards the kitchen. He began to hum to himself, just loud enough so that she could hear him.

_« __L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_

_Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,__ »_

Her footsteps faltered on the stairs for a moment, and he was almost sure he heard her stifle a gasp. But maybe his hearing wasn't as good as it used to be.

_Well, well__…_ he thought to himself as he sat before the fire with a cup of tea. _I thought it would have to be a very good reason to incite Severus to play again._ _Interesting. _His eyes twinkled.

Severus awoke the next morning to a vague feeling of trepidation. Casting around to trace the source of the feeling, he groaned. _Albus knows. Damn._

He rolled out of bed, washed and dressed, trying to work out what Albus knew and what he would do next. _Omniscient old fart._

After spending the morning attempting to distract himself by marking OWL essays however, and most of the afternoon strengthening and adding to the wards on the house, the feeling had lessened slightly.

_I have not actually _done_ anything wrong,_._ As if anything could happen, anyway. _He snorted. _But_ _I will have to watch Albus closely from now on. That look in his eyes last night__…__ he is up to something. _

He spent the rest of the evening practicing.It seemed that he had not been far off and with the help of the score, he soon had it memorised.

With a start, he heard the grandfather clock strike a quarter of six, and with some reluctance went to get ready. _How quickly you can become obsessed again... _he mused. _Even after almost eighteen years. How odd__…_

"

These thoughts preoccupied him the entire way to Grimmauld Place, until they were interrupted by the front door swinging open. Molly Weasley stood there, beaming up at him.

"Severus! Excellent, you came!" she whispered, ushering him in. "Come in, come in. Everyone is in the kitchen."

He nodded to her and strode down the dark and silent hallway as she bustled towards the stairs. The blast of noise and light that bombarded him on opening the door stunned him for a second and he paused in the doorway. The kitchen was bright, smoky and the noise was tremendous. A tribe of assorted Weasleys, surrounded the table, including Bill, who came forward to shake his hand. The Boy-Who-Lived was whispering to Ginny Weasley which seemed to be hysterically amusing. Albus, Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin were seated by the fire, and he nodded to them in turn. Mundungus Fletcher looked up furtively at the newcomer from where he was leaning with George Weasley in the corner by the back door, surrounded by a cloud of pungent smoke.

Judging by the pots, pans, utensils and the like that soared about over their heads, dinner was well underway. The whole scene was almost painfully domestic. He sighed, then turned back into the hallway to divest himself of his cloak, and almost knocked over the girl who was just coming out of the door. She swayed backwards, but grabbed the wall to steady herself.

"Good evening, Professor." She said quietly. She was blushing furiously.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger, I did not see you." He ground out mechanically, standing aside. He kept his eyes turned towards the floor as she slipped by, but the blood rushed straight to his face as he realised his mistake in looking down. Luckily, she hadn't noticed and already was halfway up the stairs.

_Idiot! _He sneered at himself. _Perverted old man!_

He slammed his cloak onto a peg and strode back into the kitchen.

He didn't see Albus Dumbledore step out of the sitting room, eyes twinkling mischievously before he followed Hermione up the stairs.

A-N: Well, apologies once more for my tardiness. I won't even trouble you with excuses. I notice that the few reviewers I once had have all but deserted me- probably because of the scarcity of updates…. Sorry. But, Unless I get at least a few reviews, this story will not proceed. I like writing, but I know that I really lack any considerable talent, so reviews make me very happy. To put it simply- I can't be bothered to write fanfic if I'm not getting anything out of it. Selfish? Yep. So, if you want it to continue- Review!! .


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